Arctic Drift Part 45

"Then I guess we just need to notify our hosts that we are headed home," Pitt said.

"My next order of business," Stenseth reported.

The captain hung up, then collected Giordino for good measure and walked down to the Canadian Coast Guard station. The Canadian commander seemed less interested in Stenseth's imminent departure than the loss of Giordino's charity at the local seamen's bar. With little to fear from the research ship, the Coast Guard commander said farewell, neglecting to provide an escort out of Canadian waters.

"With that kind of international goodwill, perhaps there's a future for you in the diplomatic corps," Stenseth joked to Giordino.

"My liver would lodge a protest," Giordino replied.

The men stopped at the harbormaster's office, where Stenseth paid the docking fees. Leaving the office, they b.u.mped into Pitt stepping out of a small hardware store with a triangular package under one arm.

"Were we missing something aboard?" Stenseth asked,

"No," Pitt replied with a tight grin. "Just an added insurance policy for when we get to sea."

The sky overhead had grown dark and threatening when the Narwhal slipped its lines two hours later and slowly cruised out of the harbor. A small fishing boat pa.s.sed in the opposite direction, seeking refuge in port from the pending rough weather. Pitt waved out the bridge, admiring the black-painted boat and its hearty breed of fishermen who braved the Beaufort Sea for a living.

The waves began rolling in six-foot swells when the Northwest Territories coastline fell from view behind them. Light snow flurries filled the air, cutting visibility to less than a mile. The foul weather aided the Narwhal 's stealth voyage, and the ship quickly altered course to the east. The Korean freighter had built a twenty-five-mile lead, but the faster research ship quickly began closing the gap. Within hours, the oblong image of the freighter appeared on the fringe of the Narwhal 's radar screen. Captain Stenseth brought the NUMA ship within three miles of the freighter, then slowed until he had matched speed with the larger ship. Like a coal tender behind a locomotive, the research ship tailed the freighter's every turn as it steamed along the uneven coastline.

Sixty-five miles ahead, Cape Bathurst jutted into the Beaufort Sea like a bent thumb. It was an ideal location to monitor the marine traffic entering the western approach to Amundsen Gulf. Though the nearest northerly landma.s.s, Banks Island, was still a hundred miles away, the sea ice encroached to within thirty miles of the cape. With radar coverage extending more than fifty miles, the small Coast Guard station could easily track all vessels sailing through open water.

As Pitt and Stenseth studied a chart of the approaching cape, Dahlgren entered the bridge lugging a laptop computer and a string of cables. He tripped over a canvas bag near the bulkhead, dropping his cables but hanging on to the computer.

"Who left their laundry lying around?" he cursed.

He realized the bag contained a sample of rocks and picked up a small stone that had skittered out of the bag.

"That happens to be your laundry," Stenseth said. "Those are the rock samples that you and Al brought back from the thermal vent. Rudi was supposed to take them to Washington for a.n.a.lysis, but he left them on the bridge."

"Good old Rudi," Dahlgren lauded. "He could make an atom bomb out of a can of dog food, but he can't remember to tie his shoes in the morning."

Dahlgren slipped the stone into his pocket while he picked up the cables, then stepped over to the helm. Without further comment, he opened a panel beneath the ship's console and began connecting the cables.

"Not an opportune time to be reformatting our nav system, Jack," Stenseth admonished.

"I'm just borrowing a bit of data for a computer game," he replied, standing up and turning on his computer.

"I really don't think we have the need for any games on the bridge," Stenseth said, his agitation growing.

"Oh, I think y'all will like this one," he replied, quickly typing in a number of commands. "I call it Shadow Driver."

The screen on his laptop suddenly illuminated with the image of two boats sailing in tandem from bottom to top. An angular beam of gray spread from a point at the top corner of the monitor, illuminating the majority of the screen, save for a moving shadow behind the upper boat.

"A little software program I just put together, with some help from the ship's GPS and radar systems. This shaft of gray light is targeted from Bathurst, mimicking the station's radar coverage."

"Which will allow us to stay out of the eye of the ground radar system?" Pitt asked.

"You nailed her. Because of our changing angle to the radar station, we'll have to constantly adjust our position behind the freighter in order to duck the signal. We just can't chug right alongside her or else we'd be detected at the fringe angles. If the helmsman keeps us locked in the indicated shadow, then we have a darn good chance of sailing past Bathurst like the Invisible Man."

Stenseth studied the computer, then turned to the helmsman. "Let's put it to the test before we get in range. Engines ahead one-third. Take us five hundred yards off her port beam, then match speed."

"And play Shadow Driver?" the helmsman asked with a grin.

"If this works, you've got a six-pack on me, Jack," the captain said.

"Make it a six of Lone Star and you're on," he replied with a wink.

The Narwhal kicked it with an extra burst of speed until the running lights of the freighter flickered off the bow. The helmsman nudged the NUMA ship to port and continued drawing closer.

"One thing worries me," Stenseth said, eyeing the rust-streaked freighter. "Hanging closer to her side for any length of time is liable to generate a radio call from her captain. And I'm sure our Canadian friends at Bathurst have ears as well as eyes."

"My insurance policy," Pitt muttered. "I nearly forgot."

He stepped down to his cabin, then returned a few minutes later with the triangular package he had purchased in Tuktoyaktuk.

"Try running this up," he said, handing the package to Stenseth. The captain ripped open the package, unfurling the Canadian maple leaf flag that was folded inside.

"You really want to sail in harm's way," Stenseth said, displaying the flag with uncertainty.

"It's only for the freighter's benefit. Let them think we're part of Canada's Arctic ice patrol. They'll be less likely to question us hanging on their flank for a few hours."

Stenseth looked from Pitt to Dahlgren, then shook his head. "Remind me never to get on the wrong side of a shooting war with you guys."

Then he promptly ordered the flag run up the mast.

With the maple leaf rippling overhead in a stiff westerly breeze, the Narwhal drew alongside the Korean freighter and matched lurches in the wallowing sea. Together they sailed through the short night and into a bleak gray dawn. On the bridge, Pitt kept a tense vigil with Stenseth, spelling the helmsman while Giordino appeared every hour with mugs of strong coffee. Holding the research ship in the freighter's shadow through the turbulent waters proved to be a taxing job. Though the freighter was a hundred feet longer than the Narwhal, the distance between the two vessels made for a narrower shadow path. Dahlgren's computer program proved to be a G.o.dsend, and Stenseth happily agreed to increase his beer debt with each hour they advanced undetected.

When the vessels reached due north of Bathurst, the men on the bridge froze when a call suddenly came over the radio.

"All stations, this is Coast Guard Bathurst calling vessel at position 70.8590 North, 128.4082 West. Please identify yourself and your destination."

n.o.body breathed until the Korean ship responded with its name and destination, Kugluktuk. After the Coast Guard acknowledged the freighter, the men fell silent again, praying there would be no second radio call. Five minutes pa.s.sed, then ten, and still the radio remained silent. When twenty minutes slipped by without a call, the crew began to relax. They sailed for three more hours glued to the side of the freighter before pa.s.sing well clear of the radar station without detection. When the Narwhal reached a bend in the Amundsen Gulf that put Bathurst out of the line of sight, the captain increased speed to twenty knots and zipped past the lumbering freighter.

The Korean ship's captain studied the turquoise ship with the maple leaf flag fluttering overhead as it steamed by. Training his binoculars on the Narwhal 's bridge, he was surprised to see the crew laughing and waving in his direction. The captain simply shrugged his shoulders in confusion. "Too long in the Arctic," he muttered to himself, then resumed plotting his course to Kugluktuk.

"Well done, Captain," Pitt said.

"I guess there's no turning back now," Stenseth replied.

"What's our ETA to King William Island?" Giordino asked.

"We've just over four hundred miles to go, or about twenty-two hours through these seas, a.s.suming the lousy weather hangs with us. And we don't encounter any picketboats."

"That's the least of your problems, Captain," Pitt said.

Stenseth gave him a questioned look. "It is?" he asked.

"Yes," Pitt replied with a grin, "for I would like to know where in the Arctic you plan on locating two cases of Lone Star beer."